Godless
Provenance: Chapter 1by Lisette:
The television
series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters
and material belong to Joss Whedon and UPN. All things
Stargate: SG-1 belong to Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double
Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. I claim ownership
solely of the story idea - no profit will be made by this.

Author's Note: There
comes a time when an author has to admit that reviews are the fuel
that drives a story to completion. After one year in which this
story has lingered, stagnant and without completion, I have finally
reached that time. I now openly admit that you, my dear
readers, can be the only thing that will push this through until the
end, finally freeing me of it so that I may once more direct my
attention elsewhere - and yes, perhaps even back towards a sequel to
Equinoxium. You see? I'm not above blackmail.
Regardless, let it be noted now that this story is in no way
associated with any of my previous works. It is a
Buffy-character-centric fic that will quickly deter from the normal
path. And yes, my friends, there will be drama. There
will be angst. There will be action. There will be humor
and yes, there will even be romance. Maybe I do have a heart
after all. Enjoy.

Brief Description:
BtVS/SG1 – For Buffy, the end is only the beginning. It's
time the Slayer was introduced to the Big Picture in all of its
Technicolor Glory.

Rating: M for Language,
Violent Content, and Sexual Themes

Godless
Provenance

There are
many times in life when people get so caught up in all of the Little
Things that they fail to see the Big Picture - even when it's looming
overhead. Sometimes it takes something catastrophic for people
to take notice, and even then only because the Big Picture comes
crashing down on their unsuspecting heads.

Buffy Summers
was one such individual. Her life was filled with challenges,
victories, and losses, and the heavy price that came with saving a
world that never appreciated her many sacrifices. In the course
of her battles she had already lost her life and her love; she had
been betrayed by her government and even those closest to her.
Yet it was in her fifth year of living on the Hellmouth that some of
the greatest prices were demanded of her. She had lost friends
before, and lovers as well, but never until this moment had she been
forced to suffer the heavy loss of family. A brain tumor stole
her mother from her, and then Fate demanded the sacrifice of a sister
that was not truly her own, but one that had been created from her
flesh, from her blood, and given a place in her heart and mind.
In the end, this price had proven to be too great for a soul that had
already suffered too much, and instead Buffy took the gift that the
First Slayer had offered her. She chose Death.

It was just
too bad that Fate chose that moment to step in and show Buffy the Big
Picture in all its technicolor glory.

Features cold
and impassive, Buffy lifted the heavy troll hammer and then brought
it down with a swift, sure stroke that connected enchanted metal with
weakened flesh, causing her opponent to stumble back and to her
knees. The defeated eyes of the hell goddess glistened with
tears, her smooth face smeared with the blood of a self-proclaimed
god.

"Stop
it," Glory ordered, but the strength was gone from her rich
voice and instead the words carried like a desperate plea.

"You're
a god," Buffy pointed out, her lips creasing in a thin, tight
line as she lifted the hammer and let it fall in another devastating
blow that sent the goddess reeling onto her back on the cold
concrete. "Make it stop," she continued as she knelt
over the prone being who had done so much damage to her friends over
the past few months. For the first time, Glory was helpless
before her, and Buffy felt her anger surge as she thought of her own
feelings of helplessness that had plagued her for so long now,
Spike's tortured body, Tara's vacant gaze, Giles' grisly wound, and
her sister's frightened face as she looked to Buffy to protect her
from a goddess. Over and over again Buffy brought the hammer
down upon Glory's battered frame, so many days, weeks, and months of
frustration pouring into this final, brutal act- until everything
shifted as Glory morphed into Ben's blood-stained features.

"I'm
sorry," he choked, his brown eyes locking with her cold glare.

Rigid, Buffy
looked at this shell of a man - a man that she had trusted and who
had betrayed that trust, and in doing so endangered her friends and
family. She should hate this man for all that he had done, and
yet Buffy couldn't help the small wave of pity for the creature that
lay defeated before her. She knew what needed to be done to
ensure the safety of the world, again, and yet this time Buffy found
her resolve lacking. There had been so much death lately, by
her hand, and by whatever hand controlled the fate of others.
First cancer had taken her mother, and then Glory had taken Tara.
Then the Knights had come and she had destroyed them without
hesitation or compunction on the morality of taking human life... and
then Glory had finished the job.

So much pain
and death.

Too much.

"Tell
her it's over," Buffy stated, her voice betraying none of the
weakness that flowed through her. "She missed her shot.
She goes," she ordered, knowing even as she did so that someday
she may live to regret this moment; that some day they may all
live to regret this debilitating weakness that stayed her hand when
more blood needed to be shed to end this once and for all. "She
ever, ever comes near me and mine again..."

"We
won't. I swear," Ben vowed as Buffy read the solemn
promise in his eyes. He wouldn't be returning.

Dismissing
him without a second glance, Buffy dropped the bloodied hammer and
hurried away.

Dawn needed
her.

"Chevron
five encoded."

Hands tucked
deep in his pockets, Colonel Jack O'Neill rocked back on his heels as
his eyes remained riveted on the clock above the doors to the gate
room. "Thirty seconds and counting, Danny-boy," he
stated gleefully, well aware of his 2IC's bemused expression and the
high arch of Teal'c's brow as his teammates waited beside him.

"Chevron
six encoded."

"Any
second now," he muttered over Sergeant Walter Harriman's
familiar voice as he counted the seconds down. "Any-"
he broke off as the heavy doors slid open to reveal his wayward
archaeologist. As usual the younger man was burdened down with
a pack that was double the size of any of the other team members, his
boonie hat sitting skewed on his shaggy brown hair. "Damn,"
Jack cursed as Daniel came to a panting halt beside his three team
members. "So close," he mused as the gate finished
its final rotation.

"Chevron
seven locked," came the announcement over the loudspeakers,
drowning out Jack's retort as the wormhole activated and the gate
exploded towards them in a rush of blue water.

"Oh, you
weren't late, Daniel," Carter quickly assured with a cheeky
smile as she pulled down the brim of her green hat. "I
think by the Colonel's count you still had ten seconds left."

"This
time," Jack corrected as he sent the captain a cool glare.
"This time," he repeated before turning to where General
Hammond watched from the control room. "All here and
accounted for, sir," he called out with a head jerk to the
fourth member of his team. "All set for a fun trip to
PX..."

"PX3-582,"
Teal'c supplied with a slight incline of his head.

"Exactly,"
Jack agreed.

Smiling,
General Hammond nodded his approval. "Then SG-1, you now
have a go."

Throwing a
jaunty salute in the general's direction, Jack turned and led the way
up the shallow incline and into the shimmering lake of blue.

Dawn was
screaming.

Legs pumping,
Buffy flew up the final steps of the rickety tower just as a small,
strange man in a black suit lowered a blood-stained knife to his side
from where he stood before the tall brunette. "Dawn!"
she cried as her sister's tear-stained face turned desperately
towards her.

"Buffy!"
Dawn gasped, the pain of the shallow cuts coloring her words.

"This
should be interesting," the small man commented, readying his
knife as Buffy strode forward, the small slayer barreling past him
and absently pushing him over the ledge to clear the way to her
sister.

"Here,"
Buffy reassured as she snapped the bonds holding the younger Summers
with a sharp jerk of her hand, the sounds of her Dawn's pained sobs
competing with the sharp scream of the strange man she had just
killed, up until the point where his impact silenced his terrified
cries.

"Buffy,
it hurts."

"I got
it," Buffy soothed, even as Dawn's three words ripped a few more
jagged holes in her bleeding heart. This was her sister - the
sister that was never meant to be, and yet the one that was more
family than her father could now ever be. Dawn was all that she
had left, and even if most of her memories were a lie, that couldn't
stop the understanding that Dawn was a part of her - perhaps in an
even truer sense than most sisters could claim. The monks made
Dawn out of her flesh - out of her blood. "Come here.
You're gonna be okay," she rambled, her platitudes coming
automatically as she pulled the taller girl against her side,
supporting her weight as she began leading her only remaining family
from the precipice.

But even as
Buffy led Dawn away from the long drop, she already knew that it was
too late. The sharp copper scent of Dawn's blood drifted in the
early morning breeze, and the small hairs on the back of her neck
were standing on end as the very air became charged around them.
She was the slayer, and as such it was impossible for her not to feel
the changes that were being wrought behind them. She had been
too late, but some part of her refused to accept this as she pulled
her sister forward. Perhaps it was the little girl in her that
had been stamped out far too young, but she couldn't help but think
that if she didn't turn around - if she didn't stop and acknowledge
the damage being done - then perhaps she would never have to.

A fantasy -
one that was revealed when Dawn ignored their forward momentum and
resisted her guiding arm. Wide, terrified brown eyes turned to
her with such pleading that Buffy nearly crumbled there and then.
Those eyes understood too much, and they were begging her to make
things right - to do the impossible and take back what Glory had
started. "Go!" Buffy ordered, the desperation to
believe in that fantasy carrying into that one sharp word.

"Buffy,
it's started."

Shoulders
slumping, Buffy felt the agony of that fantasy crumble - every hope,
dream, and wish for a better tomorrow disappearing with her belief in
everything that was good and right. In that moment she finally
understood true betrayal as she slowly turned towards the light of
the crackling portal that was growing behind them.

Eyes riveted
upon the familiar, rippling blue waters of the open wormhole, General
Hammond watched as the last member of SG-1 stepped through the gate -
just as the waters solidified into a crackling green lake of a
turbulent sea. "What's going on?" he demanded, his
usual soft Texan accent hardened beneath the instant worry for his
flagship team.

"I don't
know, sir," Sergeant Harriman quickly returned, his fingers
flying over his keyboard. "The energy readings are off the
scale and the wormhole hasn't disengaged... it's not responding to
overrides," the man continued as Hammond took a step closer.

"Can
you-" he began, his words faltering as a creature unlike
anything he had ever before seen hurtled through the gate. It
was bigger than Daniel Jackson's small car, with mottled green skin,
intelligent eyes that flickered over the room, and talons that gouged
the hard concrete as it skittered down the ramp and towards the armed
men and women that fell back beneath gnashing teeth.

"What
the hell?" someone muttered from behind him as the creature
hissed at the soldiers that stood frozen in disbelief.

"That's
impossible!" another technician stammered. "It's
impossible for something to come back through an outgoing wormhole-"

"Close
the iris!" Hammond snapped, his sharp command cutting through
the shocked babble as the Sergeant moved to comply, only to shake his
balding head a moment later.

"I can't
sir," he admitted, just as the creature began to attack and as
his men opened fire in the gate room down below.

As his feet
once more found solid ground, Jack lifted his head to find not the
abandoned hillside of PX3-582, but a large room done in typical
Goa'uld gold, and crowded with an armed contingent of Serpent Guards
with a very confused Apophis at its head. Instinctively
tightening his grip on his weapon, Jack took a small, wary step
forward as the rest of his team materialized beside him, their eyes
locked on the strange tableau spread before them.

Shaking off
his numb disbelief, Jack couldn't help but wonder who looked more
confused by this turn of events - his team or Apophis. Which
begged the question- "Hasn't anyone killed you yet?" he
asked as he waved his gun towards their old nemesis - the nemesis who
was most recently responsible for brainwashing Teal'c's son and
impregnating Daniel's wife. Thin lips settling into a frown, he
quickly turned to his second-in-command. "Carter?"

"It
would seem, ONeill, as though Apophis has acquired a new Goa'uld
mothership," Teal'c responded evenly as Apophis' hard features
slowly lifted in a chilling smile.

"Oh, for
crying out loud!"

"You
know you have to let me. It has to have the blood," Dawn
choked as the tears continued to stream down her pale face. And
in that moment, Buffy finally understood what the First Slayer had
been trying to tell her all along.

Turning,
Buffy's eyes followed the length of the rickety tower to where the
path led to the sun that was rising so distantly in the east.
The First Slayer had said that death was her gift, and she had been
right. Death had been her gift for the dark creatures that she
had spent the last five years battling, and it was her gift for her
sister so that the younger girl could live a long and happy life, and
most importantly, it was her gift for herself as reward for so many
years of hard work, for all of her losses, and in payment for the
parts of her soul that had been consumed in the battle.

It was time.

"Buffy...
no!" Dawn whispered, apparently guessing her intentions by the
look of peace that had settled upon her features.

"Dawnie,
I have to," Buffy returned as she reveled in the alien feeling
that had wrapped her in a warm, soothing blanket. How long had
it been since she had known peace? How long since the weight
had been lifted from her stooped shoulders?

"No!"

"Listen
to me," Buffy commanded as she turned to her sister with eyes
that were finally less shadowed. "Please, there's not a
lot of time, listen," she urged as the taller girl continued to
protest, vehemently denying that which Buffy knew was rightfully hers
to take. "Dawn, listen to me. Listen. I love
you," she whispered, refusing to allow her sister to look away -
to force her to read the truth in her own heartfelt gaze. "I
will always love you, but this is the work that I have to do.
Tell Giles... tell Giles that I figured it out, and... and I'm okay,"
she stated, trying to put hours of explanation into the little time
that remained. "And give my love to my friends. You
have to take care of them now. You have to take care of each
other," she continued, feeling a pang as she realized how much
her leaving would hurt them all. For a moment, she felt that
pang widen into uncertainty, until once more the First Slayer's words
rang in her mind.

There was no
more time.

This
was her time.

"You
have to be strong," she continued, forcing the steel to return
to her voice - only to have it falter as she fully allowed her
sister's anguish to wash over her. The words 'I'm sorry' hung
unspoken between them as Buffy struggled to pull her tattered resolve
around her narrow shoulders. This was no time for apologies,
for there was never time for apologies when it came to saying
goodbye.

"Dawn,
the hardest thing in this world is to live in it. Be brave.
Live... for me," she finished as she ran her dirt-streaked hand
over the curve of Dawn's cheek before pulling her close and pressing
a soft kiss against her sister's smooth skin. The kiss lasted
for but a moment, but it was a moment trapped in eternity as Buffy
forced all of her love and strength into that simple gesture before
she turned from her sister and ran towards the rising sun. With
her arms spread wide Buffy jumped from the tower and allowed gravity
to pull her down until the fierce waves of the portal's energy
consumed her, body and soul.

First came
light.

Then came
pain.

And in the
end there was darkness.

Mystified,
Klorel, son of the mighty Apophis, ignored the hesitant warnings of
his Jaffa guards as he slowly moved towards the flickering green
light of the open wormhole. They were mid-dial on the gate's
DHD when the portal had appeared, with no out-wash of water, and now,
with the alien sun beating down upon his dark, braided locks, the
warrior-child found his fascination outgrowing his distrust.

In all of the
long knowledge of the Goa'uld, never before had such a thing
occurred. To happen now, on the cusp of such a momentous day,
heralded great things for the godling. Great things, indeed, he
thought as the green light flickered over his tanned features, the
energy fluctuating in stability before finally closing with a giant
belch that sent one small form flying from the closing wormhole in a
tangled heap of limbs that rolled bonelessly to stop at his sandaled
feet.

Eyes
narrowing, Klorel waved one of his Jaffa forward as his eyes traced
over the small form of a young female - a slave, but one with unusual
coloring. Her skin was bloodied and bruised, her features
petite, and her hair the color of the sun - not unlike the Tau'ri
woman, Captain Carter. Her clothing was strange - pants the
color of charcoal and a heavy, high-necked shirt that was a dirty
white, and black coverings upon her feet.

"She is
dead," the Jaffa announced as he finished his quick inspection.

Frowning, he
watched her still features a moment more before waving for the Jaffa
to carry this new curiosity. Only time would tell of her
significance, he reasoned as another Jaffa returned to the dialing
device and began pushing the correct tiles.

To be continued...

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